


I'll Carry You Home Tonight

by supaprittiest



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Just Cute Stuff, Skyeward Week, Sleep, Sleepovers, Sleepy Cuddles, skyeward week every week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-21 17:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2477186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supaprittiest/pseuds/supaprittiest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ward finds skye sleeping</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ward was walking from his chair in the lounge area to his bunk, when he noticed Skye curled up on the couch. His eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness- he usually stayed up later than everyone else, for the solitude and the silence. 

“I’m going to bed- goodnight,” he said uncomfortably, and when he didn’t notice any sign of recognition from her, he paused. Normally, she was quick to respond, but she didn’t even move. Immediately, he was concerned. He approached her slowly, being careful not to get ahead of himself. 

He found her to be asleep, and he huffed at his own stupidity, gently stirring the strands of hair that had fallen in front of her face. If it had been anyone else, he would’ve just left, but he felt kind of bad letting her just lay all curled on the couch like that. He had slept on that couch before- and while it was comfortable for short periods of time, it made his back sore after sleeping on it for eight hours. 

He sighed. He really was turning into a giant softy. Being careful not to disrupt her too much, he lifted her by gently grabbing her waist with both hands, and slinging her over his shoulder like a baby. She moaned softly, stirring slightly in her sleep, and he might’ve imagined her eyes fluttering open, but she sighed, her warm breath spreading across his neck. He felt her fist the back of his shirt in one hand. He could get used to this. 

When he crept into her bunk, he found the bed cluttered with papers and cords. He scolded Skye inwardly, and rolled his eyes, but she wouldn’t see. With a sigh, he walked down the hall to his own bunk and lowered her onto the bed, but she wouldn’t let go of his shirt. 

“Don’t go,” she mumbled, almost incoherently, and he couldn’t say no- not when he was staring at her curled up in his bed with her wavy dark hair spread out across his pillow and her even darker eyes looking up at him. He knew it was irresponsible and unprofessional, but in a job this demanding, he had to do his best to find room for a personal life. Deep down, he knew he wasn’t just a robot with a gun, programmed to follow orders.

So he laid down on the side closest to the wall, and she snuggled up to him, her back facing him, and he dared to drape an arm over her still body. She clung to his arm with one hand, the other stretched off the bed. He felt at home, and when he fell asleep, he felt like he could sleep into the late afternoon. This was where he was meant to be. 

The next day, they acted like nothing happened, continued with their one-sidedly friendly banter, but he couldn’t prevent the glowing in his chest whenever he looked at her.


	2. Chapter 2

Skye thinks of that night all the time, for weeks. Or more specifically, whenever she looks at Ward, which is quite often since they live on the same plane. He’s always in close proximity, which she finds comforting. 

So when it’s her turn to find him passed out at the bar, with a drink not too far from his curled hand, she becomes flustered. She knows that there’s no way that she could gently carry him off to bed, the way he had for her, and she refuses to wake him. She knew that he needed plenty of rest if the berserker rage was ever to wear off. 

So she leaves him there while she runs to grab some blankets. The bar stools are bolted to the floor, preventing her from pulling one over and cuddling with him right at the counter, but that doesn’t mean she can’t make him comfortable. Wrapping one of the blankets around her own shoulders, she puts about four feet between him and her, and throws the blanket at him, expecting a flurry of rage and panic. But he hardly moves except for a flinch. So she approaches him and adjusts the blanket so that it drapes over his shoulders like a cape. 

When she settles down in the adjacent stool, she crosses her arms and lets her head rest in the crook that it creates. When she looks at Ward’s face though, she finds that his sleepy eyes are open, but droopy. She’s never seen anything so precious in her life. She can’t stop herself from reaching out with one hand and cupping his cheek, running her thumb over his stubbly skin.

“Thank you,” he whispers, with the ghost of a smile toying with his lips. It makes her heart feel all fuzzy and warm, spreading throughout her stomach and reaching to her fingertips, and she wonders if he feels it too. So she leans toward him (nearly falling out of her seat) and presses a kiss on his forehead, allowing herself to rest there for a moment to breathe in the masculine smell of his hair before she settles in her seat again. 

“Go to sleep, Grant,” she whispers, joining their hands as she puts her head down and lets her eyes flutter shut.


End file.
